


The Taste of Rain

by ScarletteStar1



Category: The OA (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Drabble, F/M, HOAp, One Shot, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 20:41:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19027531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletteStar1/pseuds/ScarletteStar1
Summary: “You’re just as frightened as I am,” she says.“Yes,” he murmurs onto her forehead and then feels instantly furious with himself for this concession of vulnerability.





	The Taste of Rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GypsySisters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GypsySisters/gifts).



> For a dear friend who has graciously welcomed me to this fandom and shares the passion for the complex dynamic that is HOAp with me.

He cannot sleep.

Outside the house, lightening flashes. Thunder threatens to crumble the world down around him. He’s never liked thunder storms.

He could take his pill, but he doesn’t. Somehow, forcing sleep upon himself feels wrong while nature demands his attention.

He could get up and work, but he can’t. His brain has exhausted itself, curled like a dishrag in the cage of his skull. It’s no use to him now.

Above his head, rain clatters on the roof of his house. Lightning brightens the sky and thunder brings the symphony to its crescendo. Hap shudders on his mattress. He swallows. Inside his mouth, another taste mingles with whisky and smoke. It is sour and does not go away.

It is the taste of loneliness.

He rises from his bed. Barefoot, he descends to the dank lab where his subjects sleep. He unlocks Prairie’s cell, making as little noise as possible. He enters and puts a hand on her shoulder. For a moment, it continues to rise and fall with the slow, rhythmic breath of her sleep, but then she jolts awake. He shushes her with a hand over her mouth, so as not to wake the others. Her lips are soft and moist beneath his palm and she does not struggle. “Come,” he says. She sits up and shuffles her feet around to find her sneakers, but he whispers, “You don’t need them. Leave them.” His mouth is so close to her ear, her hair tickles his nose. He takes her hand and leads her out of her cell.

She follows compliantly, up the stairs.

He fingers the alarm pad in the kitchen and opens the door to the porch. He leads her out onto the porch. He watches as she steps forward and absorbs the energy of the storm. The wind stirs her radiant hair, which is messy from sleep. It makes her look wild, electric. She closes her eyes and tips her head back to feel rain mist beneath the roof of the porch onto her face. Her mouth opens and she licks her lips, tasting the droplets that have kissed her there. The smallest of smiles alights on her lips.

She takes another step and stumbles a little, still sleepy and not knowing where she is or what it is all about. Hap catches her at her elbow and guides her to the railing of the porch. Standing behind her, he takes one of her hands and puts it on the railing. He places his own hand over hers, and notes how much larger and thicker his fingers are compared to her delicate digits. With his other hand, he guides her arm up and out so that it reaches beyond the porch and into the rain.

Her fingers spread out like pale rays of light in the inky night. Water splashes off of her skin in silver specks.

A sudden bolt of lightning shatters the sky into jagged shards and is followed quickly by an enormously loud boom of thunder. Prairie jumps and yanks her hand back into her body. As she does, she flings herself back against Hap who catches her easily.

“Shhh, its okay. The storm is right above us. I’ve got you. It won’t hurt you,” he bends into her and whispers against her damp cheek. He can feel how hot his breath is against her cool skin. It makes her shiver. He holds her around her waist and his arms tighten involuntarily as more lightning and thunder slash the sky. Prairie turns in his arms. She puts a hand on his chest and reaches up with her other hand to explore his face. She has never done this before, never attempted to know what he looks like, or to understand his features. His brow furrows beneath her fingertips. She brushes her thumb over his bottom lip.

“You’re just as frightened as I am,” she says.

“Yes,” he murmurs onto her forehead and then feels instantly furious with himself for this concession of vulnerability.

“It’s okay,” she says and lowers her hands so they flank her hips. At once he is bereft of her touch and wants it back, but before he can take matters into his own hands, she leans against him. Simply leans against him. She does not put her arms around him, but just allows her body weight to shift and rest upon him. He puts his arms around her and holds her.

On his chest, Prairie’s face tilts up toward night. A sheen of storm sparkles below her hairline, like a crown. Before he knows what he is doing, Hap lowers his face to her and swipes the tip of his tongue across her forehead. Rain water has mingled with the oil and salt of her skin to create a unique flavor. Back in his own mouth, he swirls his tongue around the sides of his cheek and the roof of his mouth. He’s replaced the taste of loneliness with something else, and at first it seems delightfully sweet to have that bitterness gone from his taste buds. But then he realizes this new taste is something far more potent and painful.

Prairie nuzzles her face against his shirt, attempting to wipe his saliva from her flesh. But then she settles again with a sigh.

They stand like that until the storm grows softer and moves farther away.


End file.
